


The Cliffs

by starlily11



Series: Heart of Steel AU One Shots [1]
Category: Cinderella Phenomenon (Visual Novel)
Genre: Depression, Genaro was a neglectful father and that's the hill I die on, Heart of Steel AU, Hildyr's A+ parenting, I still need to write the fic, Lucette needs therapy, Lucette's an Empath in this Story, Not, Referenced Child Abuse, So canon divergent it's not even funny, Suicidal Thoughts, why am i like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 06:21:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20559656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlily11/pseuds/starlily11
Summary: After a few sharp words from Genaro, Lucette snapped, and in the process revealed more than she ever intended. Now they're all facing the aftermath.





	The Cliffs

**Author's Note:**

> Lucette needs hugs...and possibly therapy.  
This one shot shows what kind of thing would need to happen to keep Waltz from needing to time travel.

Despite years of suspicion and (usually) barely concealed hostility, when King Genaro Britton III uttered his next words, Lucette felt her blood turn to ice in her veins, and her heart, an organ she had assumed was long frozen over and hidden behind steel walls of her own making, splintered.

“You really are your mother’s daughter,” her fa—no, the King, said. His deep voice held something worse than hatred: rather, it carried a tone of resignation, an acknowledgement of a bygone conclusion. As if merely the fact that Hildyr’s blood flowed through her veins meant that she had committed some mortal sin. As if simply by being born, she had committed a crime as great as any horror her mother had done.

Even though people had said similar things to her before, Lucette found herself taking an involuntary step back. Unwillingly, she moved her gaze around the room, taking in the sight of Ophelia, pale-faced and shaken by the revelation that Hildyr still lived. Rod, whose unrequited infatuation with Viorica had nearly doomed him; Emelaigne, who opened her mouth as if to defend her, but fell silent upon seeing the King’s grave face. Next, her eyes found Parfait and Delora, both of whom couldn’t meet her eyes. Her only mercy was that Waltz wasn’t here as well. Only Waltz had been able to look past her parentage and see her. Something deep within her soul knew that if Waltz turned away from her, she would shatter to pieces, and nothing would ever be able to put her together again.

Lucette Riella Britton, the Ice Princess, the future Bearer of the Tenebrarum, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. How could she make them see? What could she possibly say to explain herself? A soft voice in her heart that sounded enough like Waltz that her heart ached whispered, _Tell them the truth. Drop your mask and let them see._

‘Do I dare?’ she thought. Her mask of apathy and distance had shielded her for so long. It had helped her survive Hildyr. It had helped her survive years of hostility from the townsfolk and various nobles who did not yet know better. ‘Can I really let them see all of me? All the scars, the nights spent dry heaving after nightmares of what Mo—_Hildyr_, did to me?’ She pulled in another breath. ‘I don’t really have a choice, do I?’ Lucette opened her eyes, and let go.

Lucette watched herself sink into a curtsy. Her knees bent beneath her and her skirts fanned around her like the petals of a flower. She sank lower and lower until she hit the floor, then leaned forward, placing her hands delicately on the ground before her in the centuries-old gesture of supplication and briefly letting her forehead brush the floor like she imagined the maidens from hundreds of years ago had done for the kings in the east. Then, just as gracefully, she rose back into a standing position, eyes lowered in submission. Once she stood again, she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the King’s chin.

“Forgive my impudence, Your Majesty, but honesty dictates that I must contradict you.” Her voice sounded distant to her own ears, but mercifully, she could detect no tremor, no sign of weakness. “Hildyr may have given birth to me, but she is not my mother, just as you are not my father. Every aspect of her conduct towards me has been to use me in helping her to her own goals, just as she used you.”

Hearing Parfait gasp along with what seemed like half the room, Lucette found herself wondering absently how there was any air left in the space. She took another shallow breath, and it scraped against her dry throat like sandpaper. When had it become so dry? Burying her hands in her skirt, she curled her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms hard enough to draw blood. The pain of her skin leaping apart brought her back to reality. “Yes, Your Majesty. I am well aware of Hildyr’s crimes. I know how she killed your father and threatened the life of the woman you loved.” Here, she nodded in Ophelia’s direction—“And seized the throne. I know how she drugged you in order to conceive me that she could secure her position of power. I can imagine what other horrors took place. After all, she has done her best to mold me in her own image. But did you ever imagine what she would do to her own daughter?”

Willing her hands not to shake, she pushed the shoulder of her gown back and turned away from the King, letting him see the scar slicing across one shoulder and snaking down to her waist under the gown. “This is from when I was twelve and caught her inflicting a stinging curse on one of the maids. I attempted to stop her, and she threw me out of the palace and down the steps. I landed on a loose piece of stone and ended up taking shelter in the stables for the night. It was the coldest night on record for the year.” She closed her eyes tightly against the memory. “I thought I would die out there.”

She pushed the shoulder back up and turned around to face him, keeping her eyes on his chin. This time, her hands were shaking, and no matter how she tried to will her body into submission, they wouldn’t stop. “That scar is only the most visible one. I have thousands of others. Did you know that I still have nightmares about some of the things she did to me that leave me dry heaving for hours? Did you know that I saw what she was doing to the people and didn’t dare to do anything because I knew that if I tried to stop her, she would do something even worse to me?”

Here, she had to take a deep breath again. “I suppose in that regard, you and I are similar, my king. After all, you were the same. But I can’t blame you for it. Hildyr is easily the most vicious, vindictive creature that ever walked the earth. Nor can I blame you for hating me. What she did to you was essentially rape, and I am the result of that. Just know that I never chose to be born, Your Majesty. Believe me when I say that if I’d had a choice in the matter, I wouldn’t exist.” Then, softly, she added, “Sometimes I wish that all those attempts to wipe my memory had worked.”

The room was quiet except for the sound of sobbing. Lucette was fairly certain Emelagine was responsible for some of it, and possibly Parfait. Stealing a look at Delora from the corner of her eyes, she noticed that the witch looked a little green. She didn’t dare look at the king or anyone else. ‘Holy gods, what have I done?’ she thought. Still, it was too late to turn back. Her hands had gone numb.

The king’s voice was ragged. “Lucette--.” She held up a hand. “Don’t trouble yourself about me. We both have our share of the blame, and Hildyr harmed us both. You owe me nothing. From now on, you’ll never see me again. I can look after myself.” Without pause, Lucette swept another curtsy, turned her back on the king, and left the room.

* * *

Everyone stared at the door that the Princess had just swept through. Genaro’s head swam with everything she’d revealed. “_From now on, you’ll never see me again,_” she’d promised. No! She was his daughter, his light! Did she not know that?

A bitter, mocking voice in his head that sounded uncomfortably like Hildyr whispered, _Apparently not. She thinks you hate her, and has for years. Did you ever once tell her that you loved her?_ Surely he had… He racked his brains, desperately trying to remember, but every conversation with her that he could recall involved Lucette averting her eyes and seemingly doing her best to avoid him, while he did nothing.

The voice of the witch—Delora, her name was, the doll he’d given to Lucette—brought him back to reality. “So…it turns out the Ice Princess wasn’t as frigid as we thought.” Her voice was quiet, and anyone who knew her would have noticed that the phrase "Ice Princess" held far less bite than usual, if any.

The Lucis Bearer, voice watery, replied, “She was only a child. I can’t believe…her own daughter!”

“I should have considered this,” Delora muttered. “After what she did to Loreah, it was obvious she would harm a child.”

“But her own daughter!”

“Hildyr was corrupted, Parfait. She’s not the woman you once knew.”

Parfait fell silent. Then: “We’ve made a terrible mistake.”

A hand rested lightly on his arm. Genaro turned his head to see Ophelia. Her kind, warm blue eyes shone with tears she would not shed. Not now. “Go find her, Genaro,” she said softly.

Unable to speak, Genaro nodded. Then, raising his voice for the others in the room, he said, “We can assign blame later. Now I need to find my daughter.”

“What do you mean? Where’s Lucette?”

Everyone turned to face Waltz, who had just come in. “What happened?” he asked.

Delora, face still a little green and showing something that resembled guilt, replied, “We’ve come to realize that we misjudged Lucette. Rather badly, I’m afraid. Now she’s run off and we need to find her.”

“What. Happened.” Waltz’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Parfait stepped forward, wringing her hands slightly. “We were discussing how best to deal with…the current situation, and while Lucette had a plan it was…unorthodox, and His Majesty disapproved.”

Desperate to be done with this conversation and find his daughter, Genaro broke in. “I said something I shouldn’t have, and Lucette…well, she proceeded to prove me wrong on all points. Now I need to find her and clear up a years-long misunderstanding. Now, will you help me find her or not?”

Waltz gave him a long look, and Genaro wondered if he knew something the rest of them didn’t. Finally, he said, with some reluctance, “Try looking for her up near Greywatch. She goes there sometimes when she needs to think.”

“Greywatch? Do you mean those cliffs past the south side of town? The ones that people think are haunted because so many people have died falling off of them?” Rod’s voice was filled with horror.

Face grim, Waltz nodded. “I’ve often begged her to take someone with her, but she swears she knows the place backward and forward, and we’ve worked out a system. She once swore to me that she would always come back, and she’s never broken her promises. Not to me.”

He’d heard enough. Genaro turned to hurry out the door. Waltz placed a hand on his arm, crimson eyes serious.

“Wait.” Waltz closed his eyes briefly. “There’s something you should know.” 

* * *

The sky was streaked with crimson and gold, lined with soft, vibrant pinks and violet as it always was before the sun set. The fading light danced upon the water, turning it gold as the sun sank below the horizon. Gulls cried in the distance, and below, the sea reflected a rare moment of calm, gently lapping against the rocks. The growing shadows turned the gray rocks dark purple and blue while the breeze brought the sea’s wild song to Lucette’s ears.

The golden-eyed princess gazed at the sea, quiet sorrow showing on her pale face. She knelt on the rocks a few yards away from the edge of the cliffs, uncaring of any dirt that might stain her dress. Her long, thick coppery hair had come unbound and streamed down her back, flowing in the wind.

“So, here I am.” Her voice was soft, subdued. “I faced the truth, and I’m still here. The only question that remains is what I do next.”

The sea crashed against the rocks, and a gull uttered a particularly loud cry. Lucette rose and walked closer to the edge. The wind picked up, sending a light spray of seawater to caress her face. She closed her eyes. “I am Lucette, the daughter of no one. I have no father and no mother. I am, and always have been, alone.”

The wind ruffled her hair and kissed her face. _What of Waltz?_ It seemed to ask.

“I know he cares for me, and I do love him,” she whispered. Her eyes welled with tears, and one spilled down her cheek. “But I can’t drag him down with me. I won’t.”

_He would follow you to the ends of the earth_, the sea whispered._ If you leave, he’ll look for you._

“He won’t find me. Not where I’m going. Hildyr’s taint ends with me, and I won’t let her darkness touch him again.” She stepped closer to the edge, watching the water crash against the cliffs. Only a small stretch lay between her and the waves. It would be so easy to jump off and let the waves take her. No one would ever know. ‘Not now,’ she told herself, turning away. ‘Later.’ She still had a job to do. Lucette turned to face the ocean again, a few more tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I’m tired,” she murmured, her voice a small and broken thing. “I’m so tired…I don’t think I can fight anymore.”

The crack in her chest that had opened up when the king compared her to Hildyr widened, sending pain spasming through her body. A sob climbed up her throat, and she pressed her hands against her mouth, fighting to push it back in. But the sound was in her heart and in her ears and in her head, and completely against her will, it pushed its way past her lips, followed by another. Lucette crumpled to her knees, her hands gripping the stone beneath her as if her life depended on it. Her pain tore its way out of her, and with what little strength she had left, she steered her mind away from thoughts of what Hildyr would do if she saw this. ‘She is not my mother,’ Lucette thought defiantly. ‘I have no mother.’

She remained that way for what felt like an eternity, until her tears dried up and the sobs died down. Then she dragged herself to her feet. The sun had set, and the moon ruled the sky. The stars shimmered cold and bright above her. _I won’t stop you, little star. Just…just promise me you’ll come back to me, all right?_ Dear Waltz…he had only ever wanted to make her smile. And so often he had succeeded. He had always at least tried to understand her: something no one else had done for her. She would never stop being grateful to him for that. “Forgive me, Waltz. I could keep our promise today, but I fear this will be the last time.” She bowed her head. “The only thing left I can do is take down Hildyr. Then maybe we can all be at peace.”

Warm arms wrapped around her and held her tightly. “I would not be at peace without knowing you were safe, Lucette.” She stiffened.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted him. Her voice was stiff and formal as freshly polished wood. “I had not thought to meet you here.”

“Lucette, I have failed you. Utterly and completely. And for that, I am sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel unloved and unwanted, because that could not be further from the truth.”

Lucette closed her eyes. “Did I not make myself clear? You owe me nothing, Your Majesty. Please don’t trouble yourself.”

“I named you, you know. I loved you from the moment I first saw you, from that first brief moment I was allowed to hold you. I named you Lucette because in my darkest hour, you were my light.” Her father’s voice sounded by her ear, and a strong hand caressed her cheek. Lucette closed her eyes against the wave of emotions that was sure to come…and froze in shock.

Love. It was a tidal wave of love that crashed upon her. Love mixed with concern and sadness and worry…all for her sake. None of the hatred and resentment that she had expected. No disgust or thoughts of the “Ice Princess” or “The Witch’s Daughter”. The king’s heart showed her memories of the few times he had been permitted to hold her, the pain of watching Hildyr take her away from him again and again. She felt his sorrow as he recalled watching her retreat ever farther into herself, his helplessness as he failed to reach her by not knowing how. His worry and fear as Waltz told him of her gifts, and his guilt as he realized the hurt he had unknowingly inflicted on her.

Tears she didn’t know she still had spilled from her eyes, and she closed them, leaning into her father’s embrace. Slowly, she raised her hands up to close around those of her father. The king rested his head on hers.

“I love you, Lucette. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”


End file.
